


Old Friends and Old Debts

by NerdyPuddinCup



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Old Friends, Operas, Persia, Persian Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyPuddinCup/pseuds/NerdyPuddinCup
Summary: Erik the Phantom of the Opera comes to face to face with a man from his past. A man who seems determined to interfere with the life he has built for himself in the bowels of the Opera House
Kudos: 3





	Old Friends and Old Debts

His fingers danced along the ivory keys of his organ. His eyes closed from the ugliness of the world. The player surrounded himself only with the music. It was a universe into itself. One where beauty, art, and artifice reigned supreme. He rose, the seat that he once used fell behind him as the melody overtook him. Tears fell freely from the clenched eyes and rolled down the skeletal contours of his face. With a final slam of the keys reaching a truly orgasmic crescendo Erik finally opened his eyes. He took a deep inhale of breath. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it in the whole time. Reaching up, the deathly slender man touched his cheek and then stared at the moisture that had accumulated upon the tips of his fingers.

Eyes then moved to the parchment paper fixed upon the organ. Red childish handwriting ordained the paper and all the serenity and peace that he had felt broke apart at that instant. “I can play it...but I cannot write it.” He mumbles. This ever changing piece of music. It felt as alive to him as any creature he had ever come across. Perhaps even more-so. His concentration was broken by the sound of a bell ringing out. It was one that he knew well. It signaled that he had an unexpected guest. With an annoyed growl Erik grabbed the mask that was beside the parchment and placed it squarely upon his Death’s Head. 

It was within the shadows, behind the mask that Erik became more than human. He became intangible, truly separate from the world above him. A ghost for all intents and purposes. Within the confines of the darkness, the Ghost observed a man stumbling about in the dark. A man of darker complexion than the pale skinned wealthy of Paris. This man who bore a fez upon his head was not unknown to the Phantom. He knew him quite well in fact. 

“I had heard of a new patron to my Opera House. I would not have suspected it be you Daroga.” The darkness itself seemed to speak. It caused the man to pause but not turn in fear. 

“I had heard rumor of a ghostly figure causing havoc for the staff of this Opera House and I very much suspected it be you.” The man said, turning around in the darkness. A sharp eye was held by this man, but it was not as sharp as Erik had once known. “Come out into the light, let me see you جسد زنده.” 

“You know I detest that title Daroga.” 

“Well we shall both be using old and meaningless titles it seems.” After a silence that was almost deafening the cloaked visage of Erik stepped forward partially into the light for the Persian man to see. Though he would not admit it, he felt a chill run down his back as he saw the masked character before him again after all these years. “It really is you.”

“Of course it is.” Erik said with a rather dismissive hand gesture. “Why are you here? Has the Little Sultana sent you to search all over Europe for her toy-maker? Or was it the Sultan figuring out the corpse we left upon the road in my clothing was not in fact me?” The Persian raised his hand and shook his head. 

“No, I no longer work for the Royal family. I was...encouraged to retire.” 

“Because you could not return me alive?” The Persian nodded. A momentary twitch of Erik’s yellowed and bony fingers gave away what his eyes would not. “I am...sorry. I hope you were not treated too poorly.” 

“We both knew the risks Erik.” He sighed. “And as for the treatment, well...I do still possess all my limbs.” 

“Excellent...excellent…” The masked man said, reaching up and gripping at the tricep of his other arm. This was clearly an awkward reunion. “I had thought I would never see you again.” 

“Nor I you.” 

“Why are you here Daroga. Why are you hunting me if not on behalf of your damnable country?”

“You had grown a fondness for Paris within me during our friendship Erik. I decided that I would retire here, the hub of European art and the like. I was attending tonight’s performance when I first heard rumors of a mysterious Phantom of the Opera. A man by the name of Boquet described you down to the last detail.” 

“That oaf, he had spotted me in a moment after I had removed my mask. I must deal with him.” 

“Deal with him? Erik.” 

“Oh do not take that tone with me Daroga. He is spreading stories about me. I just want to be left alone.” 

“Right, that’s why you send threatening letters to the manager with demands?” 

“I still wish to live comfortably for the remaining time I have on this Earth. Is that so wrong?” 

“When you’re threatening violence and pretending to be a ghost? Yes Erik, yes it is.” 

“How else am I supposed to get it!?” Erik shouted, ripping off his mask, his yellow eyes burning in the darkness. “Perhaps it has been too long since you have seen it. But this face isn’t fit for the civilized world! If I am a Phantom it is because man’s hatred has made me so!” He growled. It had been years since the Persian had laid eyes upon the true face of his friend. It was no less unnerving these years later. He took a sharp inhale through his nose to hide his reaction. Erik squinted suspiciously before placing the mask back onto his face. 

“If you kill anyone Erik I will stop you.” 

“Stop? Me?” Hearing that caused Erik to begin to laugh. It started as a small chuckle that erupted into a laughter that hinted at the deteriorated state of his mind. “And just how do you plan on doing that Daroga? This is my world you have entered.” Erik took a step back and vanished into the shadows. “You are a mouse in my maze. I should kill you now for even threatening me.” The voice of Erik swirled all around, coming from various corners of the hall and even right next to the Persian’s ear. 

“You owe me. You won’t.” 

“Ah yes, how could I forget.” Erik said, still out of sight. His tone became bored. “Do not see how far my mercy truly extends. Debt or not Daroga, I shall not have you interfering. Now, leave me.” At that moment, the Persian man felt as though he truly was alone again. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. 

“Until next time old friend.”


End file.
